


not to be denied

by SnorkleShit



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: AU, Animal Rescue, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/pseuds/SnorkleShit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOOPY-MEL SAID:<br/>How about a Tuckington fic morden AU I guess where Tucker doesn't come into work one day so Wash is all worried and stops by his place after work to find Tucker all sick and sleeping and stuff and Junior trying to make soup.</p><p> </p><p>(not exactly what you asked for but it got away from me)</p>
            </blockquote>





	not to be denied

Washington did not have a crush on Lavernius, the guy who ran rescue with Church, Tex, York and Carolina. No matter what York constantly implied. He hadn’t memorized when their schedules overlapped, and he his heart had not stopped in his chest when he found out they lived on opposite ends of the same apartment complex. Nor had he spent three days debating whether or not to offer to carpool, since he knew (only from the smalltalk that he didn’t look forward to every time Tucker came into the back) that his car was in the shop. He didn’t find his skin heating up when the man laughed and cocked a crooked smile, his dreads tied up with leather. He didn’t feel an intense burst of anger when he found Doc patching him up after some abuser took a swing at him during a confrontation. No, he only felt a mutual workplace respect for the man.

Which is why it would be absurd for Washington to notice right away when his coat wasn’t hanging in the entry way, and he didn’t frown when he was asked to fill in for him on the Alpha rescue team. 

After a long day of answering calls and driving around to save the animals in question and take them back, they were finally on their last run. After breaking the chains wrapped around a dog that had been left to die in an abandoned lot, they headed back to the clinic. Doc and Donut carried the dog to the back, and the rest of them sat down in the break room.  
"That was some tough shit, today, thanks for backing us up out there man." Tex said, clapping him on the shoulder.   
"Yeah, you might need to again." Grif said, shuffling out of the office. "Bastard didn’t even call in sick, and when I tried to call, he texted ‘sry for the inconvenience, kinda dying of this shitty respiratory virus’ with a picture of his middle finger up. You would think someone who works with animals would have a gentler touch.” He sighed.  
"You wouldn’t be able to feel a gentler touch through that blubber of yours." Sarge declared as the secondary rescue team filed in.

"Respiratory virus?" Doc called from the back, as he handed off a bag of food to Simmons. "That’s a nasty bug going around. Does he have anyone with him?"   
"Nah, he didn’t want Junior to get sick so he sent him to stay with his friend. I’m gonna go see how he is tomorrow. Can’t today, i’ve got shit to do. He’ll be fine, like that asshole would let a virus kick his ass." Church huffed. 

Something churned in Washington’s stomach. He clocked out, and he’d already made his decision before he was home. North’s famous chicken paprika soup recipe was on his phone, he might as well put it to good use.  
He most definitely didn’t stand outside the apartment door debating whether to just leave the soup on the doorstep for ten minutes.

Dammit, David, you’re not a kid with a valentine you made for your crush. Not that you have a crush on him. It’s just soup, dammit. He berated himself. With a deep breath, he switched the bowl to his right hand and knocked with his left. 

 

A familiar voice called out, scratchy and weak. “Fuck off, Palomo.”   
Washington glanced around. “Uh, no, It’s David. David Washington. From work. I brought soup…” He replied, cursing the awkwardness of his tone.

"Oh! Uh, key’s above the door."   
Washington fished around, and unlocked the door. He poked his head in. Tucker was lying on the couch, swaddled in blankets, surrounded by tissues.  
"I look like shit, I know." Tucker rasped, struggling to sit up. Wash set the soup down, and held out a hand.  
"Don’t get up, you need your rest. You sound worse than you should…have you been drinking enough fluids?" Washington frowned. Tucker rolled his eyes.  
"Your a vet, not a doctor."  
"Actually, i’m an ex-soldier who decided to go into veterinary assistance. Huge difference, and slightly less credentials." Washington replied, looking around. "Where’s your kitchen, you need some water. And eat all that soup, trust me, it works wonder’s. North’s recipe." Washington added, heading towards the doorway he assumed led to the kitchen.   
"And I have a feeling North knows what he’s doing, South seems like the type to always be sick."  
"You have no idea. He’s not even forty, and he has gray hair. What does that tell you." Washington called back. He filled up a glass with water, and brought it back. Tucker was sitting up, and spooning soup to his mouth. At the last moment, his fingers spasmed, and the soup spilled all over him. He cursed, rolling back his head and letting his hand drop.   
"Fuck, i’m pathetic."  
Washington pulled some tissues up, and handed them to the other man.  
"No, you’re just weak from the virus. And stupid, not telling anyone how sick you really where." Washington said.  
"I can take care of myself. Been taking care of Junior all by myself, haven’t I?" Tucker snapped back. Washington sensed that a big can of worms hide behind that sentence.  
"Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should." He said softly, reaching to take the spoon, and scooped up some more soup. He held it out to Tucker.  
"No fucking way, dude, i’m not letting you spoon feed me." Tucker protested. Washington raised an eyebrow.  
"Do I need to call Dr. Grey? I’m sure she’s much more persuasive." Washington asked innocently. Tucker’s eyes widened.  
"You wouldn’t.” He whispered.  
"Eat the fucking soup, Lavernius.” 

Tucker complied, swallowing with a wince.  
"It’ll get easier."  
"Did Church tell you my first name?" Tucker asked.  
"No, Tex did." Washington replied.  
"Dude, of course she did, she hates me."   
"She doesn’t hate you…that much." Washington replied, holding out another spoonful of soup. Something warm blossomed in his chest.  
"Are you enjoying seeing me at my lowest?" Tucker grumbled.  
"No. There’s nothing wrong needing help. I just like taking care of things. Makes me feel less alone, I guess."  
"Alone? Don’t you have, like, a billion cats?" Tucker asked after he swallowed. Washington blushed.  
"How did you-"  
"I heard the manager complaining about the crazy cat guy in 209." Tucker huffed.  
"I only have six."  
”Six?”

"I take good care of them! I pay fifty extra to compensate, and they don’t damage anything, I don’t what he’s complaining about-"  
He was cut off by Tucker laughing so hard the Kleenex box fell over, and he couldn’t help but grin.


End file.
